The V-Spot

by Wendy S. Marcus

  “Because it’s with you,” he said truthfully. He’d expected Emma to be a challenge, so different from the women who propositioned him and tried to sneak into his hotel rooms. So far she hadn’t disappointed. He reached over to take her cool hand into his. “Because you’re not interested in my fame or my money. You’re not obsessed with wrestling and getting your picture taken with me. Because you’re kind and smart and sexy.” And his attraction to her, his need for her was growing more intense with each passing minute.

  “What if you find me totally disappointing?” She tried to pull back her hand but he wouldn’t let her. “Or I let go, get too wild and totally embarrass myself? And afterward, things get awkward between us. Then to avoid me you stop coming to visit my patients?”

  Ahhh. The reasons for the No Sex stance finally out in the open. “Come here.” He scooted back his chair and tugged on her hand.

  “No.” Again she tried to pull her hand away.

  Again he didn’t let her.

  He patted his lap. “Right here.” And pulled a little harder.

  “I’m too heavy,” she protested.

  Enough already. Brody dropped her hand, stood and went to scoop her up into his arms.

  “Stop!” She pushed on his chest. “You’re going to hurt your back.”

  He halted long enough to explain, “Just last week I executed a perfect body slam on ‘Ton of Terror.’ That lunatic has to be pushing four hundred pounds. Lifting a little thing like you won’t cause me a bit of trouble.” He went ahead and picked her up, carried her to his chair and sat down, cradling her on his lap.

  “I guess there’s something to be said for going on a date with a big, strong, professional wrestler.” She smiled. “I kind of like being referred to as a little thing, even if it’s only in comparison to someone named ‘Ton of Terror.’”

  Brody decided to ignore her comment, opting to nuzzle her neck and get this date back on track. “You smell so good.” A light, classy scent.

  She tilted her head giving him full access, a move he took as another positive sign. So he kissed her delicate, fragrant skin. “You feel so good in my arms.”

  “But how are your legs doing?”

  “Enough.” He looked into her eyes. “From now on every time you say something negative about your body I’m going to shut you up with a kiss.”

  She opened her mouth to argue and he slammed his lips to hers, tasting champagne, fruit and chocolate. At first touch she stiffened. He wondered if she’d fight.

  When she didn’t he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue between her surprised lips, using his left arm to ease her closer until her big, soft breasts pressed to his chest.

  God, she felt good.

  Soon she’d snaked a hand up behind his neck and was kissing him back with a vigor that had him plotting the fastest route back to his room. But first he had a few things he needed to say. So he pulled away. “To put your mind at ease I want to make three things perfectly clear.”

  She stared up at him with lust-fogged eyes.

  “One.” He held up his index finger then slid it along her bottom lip as he spoke. “The only thing you could do to disappoint me tonight is send me to my room to sleep alone. Two.” His middle finger joined his index finger. Together they guided some unruly blond curls behind her right ear. “There is nothing,” he murmured, staring deep into her eyes. “And I mean absolutely nothing you could do that I would find too wild. Bite me, scratch me, try to hurt me. Give me all you got. I assure you, I can take it.”

  She tried to say something but he covered her lips, adding his ring finger to silence her. “Three, I promise that no matter what happens between us, as long as I’m a popular professional wrestler and as long as I’m welcome at your hospital, I will continue to visit your patients as often as I can.”

  She lifted her hand, covering his fingers as she kissed them. Then she said a muffled, “Thank you.”

  “Now can we resume our date?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. So what will it be? Head back up to our rooms for more cake and champagne and whatever else we may get into to occupy ourselves?” He gave her an eyebrow wiggle so she’d know exactly what he had in mind. “Or see if Doug can work out a way for us to view a few more exhibitionist rooms without being bothered?”

  “Well.” She developed an interest in her sundress and appeared to be examining the fabric covering her thighs in search of tiny tears. “We didn’t get to see seven through twelve.”

  Atta girl. Don’t let some rude people ruin your fun. Brody noted one more thing to admire about Emma, her resilience.

  A few words to Doug and they were voyeurs once again, maneuvering along the darkened pathway on the other side of the motel, this time with security escorts leading and following. Although both men maintained a distance that allowed Brody, and he hoped Emma, to feel relatively alone.

  This time she took the lead. Brody followed close behind, warning of low-hanging branches, enjoying the occasional whiff of her perfume, making full use of every opportunity to set his hands on the swells of her soft curves under the guise of guiding her and keeping her upright.

  The first occupied room they came to, a dimly lit Room Eight, had a spanking scenario going on. The spankee, a middle-aged woman wearing a black-and-red corset on top and naked from her butt down, knelt toward the bottom of the motel’s round, red satin-covered bed. The spanker, a heavy, balding, middle-aged man wearing what appeared to be a triple XL white T-shirt, plain baby blue boxers and white socks stood on the floor, holding a brush. Based on the bright red hue of the woman’s butt cheeks, he’d used the back of it to paddle her numerous times.

  Brody didn’t get the attraction of intentionally inflicting pain on a lover. But as he watched the interaction between the pair their mutual enjoyment became clear. The woman looked back at her lover with affection, dipping her head, appearing to ask for more. The man watched her with care, appearing concerned with her pleasure rather than aggressive or abusive.

  He glanced at Emma, standing beside him, to gauge her reaction to spanking. Since she’d already turned her attention to the next room, he figured spanking was not on her agenda for the evening. That didn’t stop him from nudging her shoulder with his, pointing, and offering, “If you’d like me to spank—”

  “Don’t even think about it,” she snapped, turning to continue on.

  Smiling, Brody followed.

  Until she came to an abrupt stop at a dimly lit Room Nine.

  A threesome.

  Been there, done that, numerous times, in his wild years when he’d first joined the wrestling circuit. And he had no desire to do it again.

  Although, to be honest, all his experience lay in the female-female-male variety, not the male-male-female scene before him. While viewing the group had its appeal, Brody found watching Emma’s reaction to them to be much more enjoyable.

  She stood beside a small tree, keeping her distance from the bush in front of her, her profile beautiful in the moonlight. She stared straight ahead, mesmerized, the fingertips of her left hand pressed to her lips.

  He moved to stand behind her, stepping close, his front molding perfectly to her back as if it was meant to be there, the top of her head sliding right beneath his chin. Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You like that?”

  Still giving the threesome her total attention she nodded, as if in a trance.

  He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist.

  She didn’t flinch this time.

  Progress.

  In this position he could feel her shallow breathing and the heat radiating off her.

  She lifted the binoculars to her eyes.

  He read her stiff posture as intense concentration, the slight movement of her hips and the shifting of her stance as responses to her es
calating arousal. As if attuned to her vibe, his body responded. And not just his dick. This was about more than mutual orgasms. He wanted to fulfill her dreams for her birthday and make her happy.

  Without clearly considering the ramifications of his next question, thinking only he wanted to make tonight special for her, Brody whispered, “Would you like me to try to find another guy to join us?”

  In her moment of hesitation Brody regretted his not-well-thought-out inquiry. He didn’t want to share her, didn’t want some other man to touch her and give her pleasure.

  At her quiet, “No,” Brody let out a relieved breath. “I like watching,” she explained. “But I can’t ever imagine myself participating.”

  “Good.” He hugged her close. “I don’t like to share.” And he especially did not want to share Emma. He moved her hair, tongued the rim of her ear and exhaled a hot, moist, breath. “And I don’t need any help to satisfy a woman...over and over again.”

  She leaned back, resting her head on his chest, covering his hands with hers, softening against him. “You have no idea how much I want to put your overconfidence to the test.”

  “Do it,” he tempted her. “I’m good at tests.” He leaned in and nuzzled her ear. “I always go for the extra credit.”

  Her body actually trembled. “You are a cocky one.” She tried to step away.

  Brody held her in place so he could grind his groin into her backside to show her just how cocky. God, he wanted her, couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman this badly.

  She cleared her throat. “And big all over, apparently.”

  “All the better to demonstrate that size does, in fact, matter.”

  With that she twisted away, grabbed him by the hand and started pulling him along behind her. “You had better be as good as you say you are or so help me God.” She stopped. Talking and walking. The reason? A brightly lit Room Ten.

  A woman with thick red hair and pale white skin lay naked, on her back, in the center of the bed, her arms extended over her head, her wrists handcuffed to a hook in the headboard. The man, an equally pale twenty-something with dark hair, who also happened to be naked and looked to be painfully aroused, knelt beside her, massaging oil up her ribs, over her small breasts and back down again.

  As he’d been doing all night, Brody took up his position at Emma’s rear, relishing the closeness, loving the feel of her. “You like that?”

  Without hesitation her head moved against his chest as she nodded.

  He’d never once considered Emma would be a submissive, that she’d give him such control. Excitement for what lay ahead flooded his system, accompanied by an urgency that surprised him. He had to have her. Now. He was done waiting.

  “Let’s go,” he said, trying to turn her.

  “Wait.” She stood firm.

  Damn it.

  “I need to know,” she said quietly, still looking into Room Ten. “How far are you willing to go tonight?”

  “As far as you want. As far as you’ll let me.”

  “And what if...what are you willing to do?”

  “Anything.” He squeezed her tight, knowing she could take it. “Everything.”

  Chapter Six

  With Brody’s words still floating through her mind, As far as you want. As far as you’ll let me. Anything. Everything. Emma studied her face in the bathroom mirror, pleased with the outcome of her speedy freshen-up. Then she dabbed some perfume behind each ear and between her breasts, the finishing touch.

  The door to Brody’s room closed and she froze. The handcuff delivery. Would he come to her now? Would he wait for her to go to him? Could she share her deepest desire with him? Would he honor her request?

  Emma’s heart sped up. She stood there, listening. Waiting.

  Only the hum of the air conditioner met her ears.

  She relaxed a smidgen, stepping back to evaluate her full reflection, to see what Brody would see when he looked at her.

  “A trashy slut, that’s what he’ll see,” she told herself, disgusted, a trashy slut in an azure-blue elastic lace, fat-ass-hugging negligee with an indecently deep V that dipped too far below her cleavage. In the dressing room at the store she’d convinced herself the stretchy fabric would combat jiggling. And she’d fallen in love with the color. It goes perfectly with your eyes, Sadie had said.

  As if he’d be looking at her eyes with everything else she had on display.

  He’ll want to see your curves, she’d said.

  In this getup there was no hiding them.

  Show him what you got.

  A quick inventory confirmed two big breasts, the absolute opposite of perky. An hourglass figure, yes, but only because the pronounced fullness of her hips made her waist seem so much smaller in comparison.

  What the hell had she been thinking? She rushed from the bathroom, intending to grab her sundress from the bed and stopped short at the sight of Brody.

  While he still wore his slacks and shoes, he’d removed his shirt, his magnificent...truly magnificent chest was bare.

  God, he was beautiful, his skin tan and smooth, his bulk the perfect combination of muscle mass and definition. She fought the urge to send her finger on a tactile exploration detailing the positive outcomes of what must be a strict diet and exercise regimen.

  The clink of metal hitting metal caught her attention, dragging Emma’s focus from Brody’s chest to his right hand where a pair of silver-colored handcuffs lined with pink fur dangled by a short chain.

  Emma smiled at an image of something so obviously feminine locked around Brody’s wrists. They’d better be adjustable and sturdy.

  He held up his left hand, showing off a small bottle labeled Edible Massage Oil with a picture of a coconut on it. “You seemed to like the massage aspect of the handcuff scene so I got this, too.”

  So thoughtful. “Thank you.” She smiled, eager to get started.

  Brody’s stare caressed her hair, slid over her face, down her chest, coming to a stop at her breasts.

  She covered them. “They’re—”

  “Beautiful,” he said with enough reverence to get her to lower her hands and let him look. He tossed the cuffs and oil on the bed. “You are absolutely beautiful.” He made a slow perusal of the rest of her.

  Emma tried not to fidget or crack some lame joke about fat thighs.

  Despite the chill of the blowing air, her body heated under his scrutiny.

  “No tattoos?” she asked, trying to shift their attention back to him, motioning for him to turn around. Of course she already knew the answer, having secretly watched a few of his matches over the years. That didn’t stop her from studying every inch of his delectable skin. “So many of the wrestlers have them, I’m surprised you don’t.” All the better to view his back without distraction, the muscles there equally impressive to those in the front.

  And that butt. Her hands couldn’t wait to grab it and squeeze it as she urged him deeper inside her.

  “You wouldn’t be surprised if you knew my mother,” he said, turning around to face her. “She’d have a fit.”

  Emma found it kind of endearing, a big, strong, scary wrestler too concerned about upsetting his mom to get a tattoo. “She’s a tough one?”

  He smiled affectionately. “Oh yeah.” He stared into her eyes, running a roughened index finger down her temple, over her cheekbone, to her chin, his touch so tender. “But she’d love you.”

  Emma gave him her best “don’t bullshit me” look. “I bet she loves all the girls you bring home.”

  He shook his head, staring down at her, so serious. “I’ve never brought a girlfriend home to meet her.” He moved his finger across the seam of her lips. “You I’d bring home.” With a lazy, sexy smile he added, “Proudly.”

  That thrilled her more
than it should. Emma’s knees actually felt a bit squishy.

  As if he could tell, he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close.

  She went willingly, eagerly in fact, until something unnaturally hard poked her belly. She looked down between them to see a familiar brown cap sticking out of the front pocket of Brody’s slacks.

  He didn’t!

  “Sorry,” he said, taking out the rest of the brown bottle. “Forgot that was in there.”

  She eyed the label then him. “Chocolate syrup?” Her favorite brand in the regular variety, not sugar free or lite. She could easily fall in love with this man.

  “My emergency backup plan,” he explained. “Only it doesn’t look like I’ll be needing it.” He tossed her favorite frozen yogurt topping on the bed and reached for her.

  Emma stepped back, set her hands on her hips and waited for further explanation. When he said nothing she prompted him with, “Emergency backup plan?”

  Brody let out a breath. “Fine. If you must know, Sadie suggested if you needed a nudge I should drizzle some of that stuff on whatever body part I want you to pay special attention to.”

  “Oh she did, did she?” After tonight Sadie was in some serious jeopardy of losing her best friend status. “Well, she’s wrong, you know.” Emma could control herself. “Sure I like chocolate. But that doesn’t mean...”

  He picked up the bottle and popped the top.

  Her mouth watered.

  He inverted the opening over his left pectoral muscle.

  “Squeeze away.” She waved him off. “It won’t have any effect...”

  A ribbon of rich, creamy deliciousness squirted out, landing in a tempting glob just above the darkened circle of his areola.

  Emma tried to look away, but couldn’t.

  Within seconds its enticing scent wafted into her nostrils, stimulating her senses to the point she could almost taste it.

  Brody flexed, his left breast jumped, sending the syrup into motion, down, slowly.

  “It’s your birthday,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “Indulge.”

  Emma licked her lips, wanting to, but, “If I do, that’ll prove Sadie right.” The rivulet of shiny brown confection came to a stop, its progress impeded by Brody’s nipple. She watched as it collected, about to drip. “That I’m weak and easy to manipulate.”